Strange Changes
by black1beard
Summary: Many years ago the Goblin King made a deal with the Queen of the Between to save the Labyrinth. Fourteen long years have passed and both Sarah and the King are tormented by their dreams. When the Labyrinth is invaded by a mysterious and frightening creature, the two adversaries must make a change to save the kingdom and all of existence. If only they knew what that change was.
1. Chapter 1: And Thus it Begins

Chapter 1: And Thus it Begins

Humanity is the master of stories. It is a skill unique among all creatures, both mortal and immortal. They craft stories out of the aether with such rapidity and diligence that many have wondered whether humans breathe tales and not air. Through their words worlds take shape where none existed; gods and magiks awaken from slumbers they never slept; courageous heroes face villains in deadly trials that shape the very cosmos; and true love guides the fates of the most powerful beings. Their stories have the power to heal what cannot be mended and to destroy that which is impervious. Like a blacksmith, mankind's stories shape and temper their beliefs. It is this very power which gives humanity supremacy over the great and terrible beings beyond the mortal veil.

Through the centuries, man has told, sung, written and forgotten more tales then there are stars in the sky. Thus the story before you, dear reader, is one among billions. Unread, it is nothing but words on a page. But like all stories, within its passages dwells a great power. Will you unleash it? Are you willing to live with the consequences?

This is a story as old as mankind itself, but is as new as the first breathe of a newborn, and begins with an old, bitter grudge buried within the darkest depths of the earth.

* * *

A soul shattering howl rent the darkness as the final cracks of Its prison sealed shut. The cry did not reverberate, for there was nothing within the prison to echo the howls of rage. Its prison was nothing, a terrible nothing that had entrapped It in an age long passed. But the nothingness had been weakening. Cracks had formed within Its prison and It had been able to see, smell, taste, touch and feel again. It had been so close. Time did not truly matter for one such as It, but It knew that freedom had been within its grasp. So close, but no more.

The sheer agony of it ripped It apart, fragmenting Its being and filling the void with a chorus of voices, each unique in its suffering.

_We were so close!_ One cried out in despair.

_ Where did He get the power?_ Another wailed.

Where _did_ He get that power? They could feel it growing, solidifying, and capping their prison as solidly as a tombstone. There was no escape. They could feel their fragile grasps on sanity slip as utter despair fell upon them.

Cries of laughter, screams of fury and wails of deep sorrow raged for what may have been centuries or perhaps only minutes when something in the prison changed. It was a subtle, small change. It went unnoticed by all but the smallest of the fragments.

_Wait! _It cried out to Itself. _Wait!_

As slow as a glacier spreading across the land, silence descended upon the prison. A tension filled the fragments of It, suffusing the air with a silent hum.

_There is a crack_, the smallest voice spoke with joy and bewilderment.

It was too good to be true. They almost wouldn't let themselves hope. Had they missed it when they had descended into madness?

_But why? _One called out to the others.

_He has the power. It hasn't lessened. _Another confirmed.

_Something… has changed._ Throughout the prison a million otherworldly, nightmarish smiles filled the nothingness. With a snap, the fragments became It once more and It continued to stare at the crack in Its prison with sickening glee. Carefully, slowly, It reached out for this weakness and pushed. The crack gave a stomach-churning pop and grew larger.

_**Oh yessss,**_ It purred into the darkness, _**something has indeed changed, hasn't it.**_

It cackled as it diligently worked at the crack, expanding it and making new ones. Soon It would be free and It had plans for the man who had sealed It away; wonderfully cruel, truly twisted plans.

* * *

The hallway of the Castle Beyond the Goblin City uncoiled before Jareth like a great serpent. His steps rang hollowly as he passed empty bedchambers, sitting rooms and studies; cruel testaments to just how alone he was. An ethereal, silvery light from the moon filled each room creating a harsh, steel like impression upon what lay within. The brutal lighting made it seem as if even the rooms would not welcome any living thing. It was a cruel reminder of how his whole kingdom's design and purpose isolated him.

Physically, the Labyrinth kept the world at bay, twisting and enfolding on itself, blocking any entrance into its depths. But it was his duty to his realm that truly isolated him from mortals and immortals alike.

He had ruled over the Labyrinth for millennia, doing what had to be done. Only he could control the wild magic within his realm. And only he could perform the ritual. It was a burden that the other realms honored him for. Without him, without the wished away children he gave them, without the ritual, everything would fall into ruin. Sadly, it was also for this reason that he was so greatly feared.

A great sigh wrenched itself from Jareth's heart as he swept an elegantly gloved hand through his fine platinum blonde hair. So immersed was he in his self pity that he did not notice that he was no longer alone.

The hallway had ended and he was in a sun room. Three of the four walls held shelves that were covered with curious odds and ends. Cobwebs and dust hung from every corner of the room and caked the threadbare furniture. The fourth wall was not a wall at all, but a series of crooked archways that opened out on to a balcony overlooking the Labyrinth. It was there, standing out on the balcony that he saw _her._

She had not noticed his entrance and remained with her back to him. He was pleased to see that this time her long dark brown hair was tied back in a loose braid, displaying a swath of creamy ivory skin along her neck. She wore a loose white blouse that was cinched around her curves by a sinfully tight leather vest, and her leather pants, which clung to her legs like a second skin, plunged into a pair of black riding boots. Jareth was so taken by this vision of beauty before him, bathed in moonlight, that he had almost missed the double handed sword slung around her waist.

At the sight of it, the warmth that had been growing within him, the pure joy of her presence after feelings of isolation, froze. So this was how it was going to be tonight? This was what she expected of him? Well, he thought as anger began to well up within him, he hated to disappoint. Icy daggers of rage and disappointment, directed at himself and at the woman that stood before him, tore down his spine. Dark swirls of magic pooled around his hand. It solidified and Jareth felt the comforting weight of his halberd.

"Hello, Sarah." He practically purred as he spoke her name. Sarah turned and he observed a war of emotions play across her face when she saw him. There was surprise, excitement, disappointment, fear, rage, sorrow, and the flicker of desire. Jareth felt a tremor of excitement to be the source of such pure emotion.

"I am tired of this, Jareth," He shivered when she spoke his name. There is such power in names; mortals never seem to understand this. Sarah pulled her sword from her scabbard and crossed into the sunroom. "I want to end this, now, tonight."

"Very well, precious, then we shall end this."

At that, Jareth charged her with his halberd. Sarah deftly avoided the blow, the halberd striking uselessly against one of the crooked columns. Twirling with the momentum, she moved into striking distance and swung her sword down. Jareth brought the staff end of the halberd up and deflected her blow. With a second motion, he slammed the side of the staff into her face, causing Sarah to recoil. While Sarah was preoccupied with her freshly bleeding nose, Jareth moved his halberd back into a fighting stance and stepped out of her range.

When she looked up, her hazel green eyes flashed menacingly back at him. He was stunned at how beautiful she was, blood staining her fair skin. His next thought, however, was more of a curse as she began to rain blow after blow down on him, keeping him on the defensive.

The fight seemed to go on forever. But as he well knew, forever is not long at all. Jareth deflected a particular harsh blow from Sarah's unrelenting assault, causing him to stumble. Sarah took advantage of the moment and tackled him to the ground. His halberd clattered against the stone tile of the floor as it was swept out of his reach. Faster than any human should have been capable of, Sarah's sword was at his neck, cutting mercilessly into his skin. The weight of her body pinned him to the ground as she straddled him.

In a sick way, Jareth was thankful for the vengeful woman who was finally going to slit his throat. It was finally going to end. Fourteen long years of torment and restless dreams; millennia of loneliness and soul crushing boredom would be over. Someone else can preside over the damn ritual. Someone else can give children to the infertile fae. Someone else can be the Goblin King. He didn't care anymore. Jareth simply closed his eyes, bared his throat and waited for sweet oblivion.

Nothing happened.

Nothing continued to happen.

Jareth looked up to see Sarah frozen above him, her face contorted in agony. Tears began to roll down her cheeks as her body tensed above him. He could feel her push herself against the blade while simultaneously pulling it away. She hovered above him, hazel green eyes locked with his mismatched brown and blue, as the battle within her raged on. Finally, with a scream of helpless despair she withdrew her sword and threw it across the room. Its flight ended with a dull thud when it embedded itself into a particularly ugly wooden statue of a troll. Jareth stared at the troll dumbfounded and with remorse. His torment would not end tonight.

Sarah reached out and held his face. "Why can't I kill you?!" she begged as she stared deeply into his mismatched eyes, trying to scry the answers from them. Sudden realization hit the Goblin King. This Sarah was suffering as well. But he couldn't understand why.

Next thing he knew, Sarah's beautiful, sweet mouth crushed into his and all thought fled his mind. She poured all her rage and lust into that punishing kiss, and Jareth eagerly returned it. Her hands slipped into his hair and held fast. He nearly moaned from the pleasure of it. With a slight shift of her body, Sarah freed his caged arms and he quickly wrapped one arm around her back while the other cupped the back of her head.

Unrelenting, Jareth deepened the kiss, forcing his tongue into her mouth. The taste of her set his blood on fire and Sarah moaned her approval. Suddenly, he needed to feel her skin. It was a desperate need, no less great as when he had desired to kill her only moments before.

Tearing himself away from the soul searing kiss, Jareth began to rip the buttons from Sarah's blouse while she placed tormenting kisses along his sensitive neck. It seemed to take ages for him to untie the laces of the vest that imprisoned her beautiful breasts. Finally, the last traces of her top were removed and all her glory was displayed before him. Tentatively, he cupped a full breast and lightly flicked a rose tipped nipple. He was rewarded by a delicious moan.

He couldn't stand it anymore. Jareth wrapped his arms around Sarah like a vice and swiftly rolled them over so that she lay beneath him. Her hair had somehow escaped its braid for it spread out on the floor like fine silk. Her skin glowed under the silver moonlight, not like cruel steel, but rich ivory.

"Please don't let me wake up," he begged in a half whisper as he rested his forehead against hers. He barely had time to register the confusion in her eyes when he heard a voice he hoped to never hear again.

"Ah, but Goblin King," the sweet feminine voice cut through him like a razor's edge, "you _must_ wake up, for I am not finished with you."

Dread wracked his soul as he twisted around and stared into a pair of deep violet eyes.

* * *

The Goblin King bolted out of bed, silken blue sheets still clinging to his nude form. How dare she?! How dare she enter his dreams?! With a flick of his wrist, he was clad in black leather and metal armor. His black, ragged cape swirled around him like a nightmare.

The Queen of the Between had invaded his dreams.

Fury burned through him like a wild fire. If she wanted his attention, then she had it, in full. She was going to pay for this insult and for much, much more.

With two swift strides, Jareth leaped from his window, transforming into a great white owl. He shrieked a battle cry to the dark night sky as the steady beats of his wing drew him toward the realm of the Between.


	2. Chapter 2: Between Never and Me

Chapter 2: Between Never and Me

The world turned on its head as the great white owl soared through the realms of the Underground. Each beat of its powerful wings brought it closer to its destination; the Between.

An ancient and terrible land, the Between lies just outside of reality. The paths to it are numerous and varied. Its ways can be found in archways and windows. It nestles itself within the quiet hours when the world hovers between day and night. It can be reached when old wizened grandfather clocks toll midnight. And it lies hidden in the first breath of newborns and in the last shuttering sighs of the dying. All creatures, mortal and immortal, have traversed its borders and walked its lands. A land both alien and familiar, to exist is to know the Between.

Jareth closed his eyes when he sensed that the boundary of the Between was drawing near. There was something inherently unnerving about crossing the border. It was not unlike being simultaneously somewhere and nowhere all at once. The first time he had visited the Queen, when he had been a youth and not yet a king, viewing the crossing had caused him to reel from the disorienting sensation and he had plummeted from the sky. He knew better now, keeping his eyes firmly shut till he felt the magic of the land settle against his feathers with unsettling pressure.

With some hesitation, Jareth carefully opened his eyes and inspected the lands below. The realm of the Between had no day or night, but was wrapped in eternal twilight. Landforms shifted and twisted in on each other, never truly being desert or forest. Soaring, ominous mountains simultaneously inverted into deep valleys. Land and water existed simultaneously in such a way that made the mind strain. There were no towns or cities, in the conventional sense. Nothing truly lived in this realm, but neither was the land unpopulated. What roamed the earth and soared through the sky were hideously beautiful things that captured and tormented the imagination.

Rising up from the horizon, cutting the sky like a terrible blade, the Castle of the Razor's Edge twisted into view. Colors, akin to those seen when eyes are closed, rippled across the castle's walls. No discernible architectural style seemed to be used and yet there was the unnerving sensation of shifting architectural designs. True to the land it ruled, nothing about the castle remained constant. Spires transformed into gateways or turrets in the blink of an eye. Yet the most intimidating thing was that the castle looked as if it was not constructed, but had always existed, and Jareth had a sickening feeling that it probably had. The Goblin King was ancient and very powerful in the eyes of Seelie and Unseelie courts, and yet the very essence of the castle looming before him was so much more.

In a flurry of feathers and swirling black cloth, Jareth landed before the imposing edifice in full battle armor. Disturbing movements in the walls of the castle, resembling organs shifting within a living body, twisted into a looming gateway. Large obsidian doors now barred the Goblin King's way, but opened with a soft rush of wind as he stepped forward.

The interior of the castle was just as unsettling as its exterior and Jareth struggled with the sensation of both being within and without.

"Your Majesty," a clipped and oddly accented voice, all rolled R's and trilled T's, broke the silence, "it is an honor that you grace our halls."

A tall dark man seemed to bleed out from the shadows and bowed to the Goblin King. "I am Prince A'tel, son of Her Majesty, the Queen of the Between and N'ix, third son of Clan Ma'rrow. It shall be my privilege to escort you to Her Majesty."

So this boy was one of her brood? That was none too surprising. Being the Queen of the Razor's Edge, she had many children. Due to the unique nature of the children's conceptions, wedlock was not needed to legitimize their status as royalty.

Instead of immediately answering the young man, Jareth subjected him to a scrutinizing gaze. Prince A'tel was part drow. His midnight black skin stood out in stark contrast to long, unadorned hair the color of moonlight. Pointed ears marking his heritage swept up above his head and from them dangled delicate sliver chains that chimed when he moved. He was painfully beautiful, the way many of her children were, with deep violet eyes; _her_ eyes. His straight white hair seemed to interblend with the fabric of his white poet shirt. Both shirt and black leggings were deceptively simple, but upon closer inspection one could see richly beautiful and ornate designs of dragons that roiled across the silk.

With an air of disdain, Jareth finally spat, "Indeed, the honor is all yours." He was pleased to see the man's smile falter and an icy gleam enter those eerily violet eyes.

He smirked and continued, "I desire no pleasantries for I come offering nothing pleasant. Just lead me to your mother and stop wasting my time."

At that, Prince A'tel's smile vanished. He gave the Goblin King a chilled glare, a curt nod, turned on his heel and preceded to lead him down the twisting halls of the castle.

Jareth was no stranger to twisting corridors and doors that appeared to be walls. His Labyrinth was full of such obstacles, but they were all illusions. The Castle of the Razor's Edge held no illusions. Everything within it was jarringly real. Walls truly were doors and small, intimate rooms were cavernous. His eyes begged for him to label it all as tricks of light and clever reuses, but he knew too well that that wasn't true. An unpleasant shiver crept down his back as he recollected just how powerful the ruler of this castle was.

The rage that had spurred him into hasty action became a lead weight in the pit of his stomach. The Queen of the Between was no minor lord-ling or flighty fae queen that he could threaten or intimidate. Her wisdom, strength and power outshone even the queens of Winter and Summer. Nor was she fae, making her motives completely alien and unpredictable to him. She did not play by the rules of Seelie or Unseelie courts, but kept rules particular to her and her alone. It was only in her presence that Jareth ever felt immaterial. He was truly daunted by the enormity of whom and what she was.

It was with the dread of a hunted animal, and not the wrath of a conqueror, that Jareth entered the grand throne room deep within the very heart of the Between. Large ornate columns of twisting half-creatures lined the room and rose up to a ceiling that may have also been the sky. On all sides he could see the realm of the Between stretching out to the horizon, and yet he knew he was still deep within the castle. The floor was a twisting intricate mass of multicolored tiles that shifted its design to a rhythm that no sane creature could comprehend. It gave Jareth the sensation of walking on an uneven floor and caused him to stumble. Much to his chagrin, Prince A'tel traversed the daunting floors with the elegant grace of a cat.

At the end of the large throne room stood a white marble dais, upon which sat a terrible throne made of sharp obsidian blades. Their wicked edges gleamed in the eerie half light of twilight. Reclining elegantly upon the cruel throne, like a great serpent twining lazily about its horde of stolen gold, sat the Queen of the Between.

Prince A'tel's clipped tones broke the silence, "May I present Lilith, first wife of Adam, Queen of the Razor's Edge and ruler of the Between."

Jareth felt the trap snap shut around him. He had been goaded in to this place, drawn out of his hole like easy prey and now there was no escape.

"Mother," Prince A'tel continued, "I bring before you Jareth, son of the Wild Magic, King of the Goblins and ruler of the Labyrinth."

A sharp smile caressed Lilith's fair face as she addressed her son, "Thank you A'tel. You may leave us."

A'tel gave the powerful rulers a swift bow and left the hall. Jareth tried to ignore that it only took the man two short strides to reach the doors at the distant end of the throne room.

Now alone, Lilith's smile relaxed into a self satisfied smirk. She was stunningly beautiful, but with a sharpness to her features that filled one with unease. Long, straight sheets of raven black hair were pulled back from her face by a set of sickle shaped rubies, as if the bloodied claws of a demon were lovingly stroking her hair. She wore a tight black long sleeved top that clung to her graceful neck and flared around her face like red tipped bat wings, framing and accentuating her ivory skin. Another set of ruby claws, sown into her black leather corset, reached up to loving cup her beautiful breasts. The corset itself caressed her curves like a pair of delicately folded dragon wings. Black leggings peaked out from behind a pair of intricately decorated black and red thigh high boots. From her hauntingly beautiful face, deep violet eyes intently gazed at him as if she were divining all of his hidden secrets. Strewn across her lap, radiating menace was her terrible obsidian sword.

Jareth knew the stories behind that blade. It was the symbol of her duty, like his pendant, gifted to her by the Between itself. The sword was not meant for killing, though its deadly edge had cut many lives short. Its true purpose was not to kill its foe, but to remake it. The blade changed and transformed the very essence of those it struck, a terrible type of death of its own.

"Thank you for accepting my _invitation_, Jareth," Lilith cooed.

Anger flared anew as Jareth recalled the invasion of his dream. "A letter would have sufficed," he answered, voice dripping with menace. She may have trapped him, but he would not be so easily cowed.

Lilith sighed as if she were dealing with a particularly petulant child. "I did send you letters… and summons and envoys and…" her smile grew sharp again, "my daughter."

Jareth cringed at the memory of her daughter, Luciel, Lucifel's first child before the Fall, before he took up a new name; Lucifer. Her eyes shown like a pair of twin stars shinning out through the dark. They say she has her father's eyes.

"Yes, I remember that demon's spawn." Jareth spoke.

The Queen of the Razor's Edge descended the dais and had his throat in an iron grip in the blink of an eye. Fury exuded from her being as she effortlessly lifted him from the floor.

"That filth played no part in her conception." Lilith's eyes hardened as she tightened her grip, "Her father was the Morning Star, a seraph, and not the demon he became!"

She unceremoniously dropped him to the floor where on bended knee Jareth desperately tried to regain his breath. Lilith crouched down and locked eyes with him.

Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, "You know why I sent Luciel and not one of my other children." It was not a question.

Jareth barely managed a nod.

Lilith stood, turning her back on him. In a voice full of despair, she beseeched, "Then why did you ignore my warning? Like you, Lucifel sought me out in search of the power he needed to obtain his goals. He had desired free will, for himself and the heavenly host." Lilith's shoulders sank imperceptibly. She turned back to him, her violet eyes filled with sorrow, "Through my bed and my guidance, I gave him the tools to gain the change he so desired. But like you he did not fulfill his contract with me, abandoning the changes within him, and he fell to ruin, becoming the demon he is now."

The Queen grew unnaturally still. When she spoke again, it held the same deadly power of her obsidian sword. "You see, Goblin King, once you begin to change, stopping the process unmakes you."

Indignation cut through the King's pain and struck his pride. With only a slight tremor, he rose from the floor. In a single stride he was within inches of the harrowing Queen.

"I did all that you asked of me! I shared your bed! I got the girl to wish away her brother!" Jareth could not keep the outrage from his voice.

Her eyes gleamed knowingly as they racked over his body; remembering every sensual curve, every desperate cry of that night. Her voice was a seductive purr, "You know better than most that sharing my bed was not a price, but a catalyst. Change is what I crave. Your transformation was the price and you, dear Jareth, have yet to pay in full."

"You told me I needed the boy to obtain the change I desired, but the girl won him back." He winced at the note of bitterness that crept into his words. "Thus our contract is null and void."

"Did you not get the power you desired to save your kingdom; the power you needed to save us all?" Lilith asked.

Jareth froze. He _had_ been given the power he needed. The moment Sarah left the Labyrinth; it began to trickle into his domain. Within a few years, a torrent of mortal belief fell upon his kingdom, suffusing it with a primal magic, giving him all the power he had desperately needed. Since then, the flow of belief had only increased.

"I…" Jareth felt completely lost. He had noticed the change within his realm, but could not discover why it had come. He had been too distracted by dreams of the Labyrinth's Champion and left the issue alone. "I don't understand."

Lilith lifted a delicate hand to his face. The look she gave him was not of scorn, or contempt, but of pity. Jareth nearly crumpled under the weight of that pity.

"Oh Jareth," her forlorn voice cut him to his very core, "it was never about the babe."

She leaned in, holding the Goblin King in an embrace as pure and loving as a mother's touch. Delicately, she whispered into his ear, "Your essence has dwelt within my lands for far too long, dear King. To balance upon the Razor's Edge for fourteen years has cut you deeply. The repercussion for us all will be terrible indeed."

Stepping back, she continued, "You must choose soon, or you, the Labyrinth and all of reality is doomed…"

Her gaze shifted, falling upon someone behind him, "And you must choose as well, Champion, for you have been tied to the Labyrinth in such a way that it lives and dies by your whim!"

Jareth heard a hitching breath from behind him. He spun around and saw the fading image of Sarah, fear etched into her features.

* * *

A loud, mournful wail woke Sarah from her disturbing dream. Heart pounding within her chest, she could not remember where she was as another mournful call jarred her nerves. In time to eerie wail, the warning of her dream echoed through her mind, "_You must choose…Champion… the Labyrinth… lives and dies by your whim!_"


	3. Chapter 3: The Cat and Her Mouse

**Author's Notes:** Hey everyone, I would like to thank you all for reading my story thus far. This is the first time I have written anything quite so extensive, so I am very excited. I also wanted to give a fair warning... **smut lies ahead!** So if smutty goodness bothers you, I wrote a little blurb at the end of the chapter for those who are faint of heart.

Also, I don't own the Labyrinth, Goblin King, Sarah, etc. I wish I did, but alas, no.

* * *

Chapter 3: The Cat and Her Mouse

Sarah's heart thudded painfully against her chest as she desperately tried to shake the dream's grip on her. Where was she? Was she still in that eerie realm with the Goblin King and that mysterious woman? She had not been able to hear most of what had been said between the two except towards the end of her dream. The violet eyed woman had given her and Jareth a warning. She shivered and buried herself under the covers of her bed.

"_The Labyrinth lives and dies by your whim!_"

The darkened room jostled imperceptibly to the rhythm of softly rumbling clickity-clacks. Lights from outside a window flickered, briefly illuminating an unbelievably small room. Two doors faced her double bed and a small vanity was crammed into the far corner. Clothes and other sundries were strewn about haphazardly, making the room feel shabby, but lived in. Another mournful wail brought her to her senses and she was struck with the sudden realization of where she was; she was on a train in the UK. The mournful wails were simply the train's whistle and the flashing lights were most likely another small rural town, one of many she had seen dotting the English countryside.

Even with this realization, her dream still clung to her and refused to fade. Sarah had had many dreams of Jareth since defeating the Labyrinth fourteen years ago. They were sometimes sweet; ballroom dances and pleasant walks through the Labyrinth. Sometimes they were passionate, but teasing; soul consuming kisses and franticly escalating touching that she would wake from before actually obtaining anything substantial. And then there were the times they tried to kill each other.

The dreams were a painful torment, never actually being able to quell the aching fire that Jareth stoked within her and never being able to kill him and be done with it. She was certain that it was some sort of sick curse that the Goblin King set upon her for solving the Labyrinth, filling her dreams with phantom versions on himself to drive her insane. Either that, or… she didn't want to think about that.

However, this dream had been different. Certainly it had started the way many of her dreams involving the Goblin King began; fighting leading to a passionate make out session. But then that violet eyed woman had appeared and everything changed.

Sarah trembled again. What did it all mean? Reflexively, she reached out a hand in search of the comforting warmth of the soft body that had been sharing her bed for two years. There was nothing to reward her seeking hand but empty air. Mild panic began to set in when the door to the cabin slid open and a beautifully feminine form was silhouetted by the harsh light from the hallway. In each hand, she carried two mugs, steaming happily.

"Cat!" Sarah exclaimed as relief washed over her.

A graceful swipe of Cat's hip, done with the kind of precision a belly dancer would kill for, closed the cabin door. She flipped the light on over the vanity with her elbow, then sat herself next Sarah. Her face, lined with concern, gazed at Sarah as she offered her one of the steaming mugs, "What's wrong, Little Mouse?"

Sarah took a steadying sip of the brew Cat gave her. It was chamomile. Cat only ever gave her chamomile when she had one of her dreams. A tear slid down her cheek.

She didn't deserve Cat. She was smart, beautiful, strong, the best traveling companion Sarah had ever had and, above all, painfully understanding of Sarah's problem. Cat never once condemned her for her dreams like her previous partners. Her female lovers had resented her for dreaming about a man, declaring she wasn't serious about being with a woman. And her male lovers claimed she was pining after someone else. She had even tried hiding the dreams from her lovers, but they would always find out someway and then they would be even angrier with her for keeping it from them. She just couldn't win. But Cat had accepted her, dreams and all.

With one elegantly long finger, she wiped away Sarah's tears, "That bad, huh?" Her uniquely accented voice soothed Sarah's frazzled nerves.

Once, in a rare moment of divulgence, Cat had explained to her that the odd combination of Irish, Scottish and refined English was a product of Middle English being her first language. There was so little she knew about Cat, but that didn't matter. If Cat could accept her dreams then Sarah could accept her silence about her past.

Sarah let her head fall onto Cat's ample chest. God, the woman was built like an Amazon. She was all sumptuous curves and tightly corded muscle, unlike Sarah's narrower frame and lean build. She had the kind of curves Betty Page wished she'd had. Her face was soft and heart shaped, with mischievous dark brown eyes. And her straight, shoulder-length raven-black hair tickled Sarah's nose. Through her thin cotton tee, Sarah could just barely see the comforting images of her two tattooed dragons' heads, one black and the other white, dipping down below her collar. The rhythm of Cat's heart beat a steady reminder that she was here, that she was real and that her heart beat for Sarah.

"It was… different." Sarah sighed, allowing herself to completely melt into Cat's luscious body.

She told her everything. It had become a ritual for the two lovers. Cat would bring Sarah a cup of chamomile while Sarah told her every detail of her dream. Honesty was the least she could give her when it came to her dreams about the Goblin King. But when Sarah got to the part with the woman with the violet eyes, Cat grew oddly still.

When she completed her story, Sarah gazed up at her still lover. She inhaled and could smell the tantalizing essence of lilacs and magic.

Cat was not human, at least not completely. Ever sense her trip through the Labyrinth, Sarah could see the things humans had forgotten how to see. She even found that she was famous in the realms Beyond the Veil; as the Labyrinth's Champion. Once she was out of college she went on many adventures through the Underground, often with her Labyrinth friends. She had met Cat on one such adventure. The beautiful woman had stormed in like a vengeful goddess and saved her from becoming a demon's thrall. They had not parted company since that fateful night.

Carefully, Sarah breached the subject, "What do you think this means? I have never had anyone other than _him_ in those dreams before." It was an unspoken rule to not say his name in regards to the dreams. It made it too real. Whether this was for Sarah's or Cat's benefit, she was never sure.

Cat continued to stroke Sarah's hair, lost in thought. Besides her hand, she remained inhumanly still. It was at times like these that Sarah wished she knew more about the mysterious woman that had won her way into her heart.

Finally, she broke the silence, shifting so that she held Sarah's face up towards her own, "I don't know, my Little Mouse. Something has changed and we would be fools to ignore it."

The hand not cradling Sarah's face slowly rose from her hip, delicately tracing Sarah's curves till it placed itself on her breast, over her heart. Leaning in, Cat began to nuzzle her exposed throat, which her ridiculously baggy tee gave the woman plenty of skin to play with.

"But," Cat's voice grew husky, "that is something we will face in the morning."

Sarah shivered. This was another part of their ritual. After Sarah finished explaining her dreams, they would make love. It was as if they were both reaffirming that it was all just a dream, that the Goblin King held no place in their lives. Sarah wasn't sure if that was true, but when Cat held her in her arms she would move the very stars for her.

Cat's affectionate nuzzling became hot, open mouthed kisses that left a trail of fire down her neck. The hand she had used to hold Sarah's head reached up and tangled itself in her sleep mussed hair and pulled. Sarah couldn't help but moan at the roughness of her touch.

Sarah's clever hands snaked their way under Cat's tight tee and began to tease her two full breasts. Cat paused in the maddening kisses she was lavishing upon her neck, too distracted by the tantalizing sensations of Sarah's ministrations. A deft twist of her nipple caused Cat to arch back, sending thrilling shutters through her body.

"Sarah!" she gasped, as she clutched her lover's shoulders.

Slowly, Sarah began to tug at the cruel tee shirt that was keeping her from fully enjoying her lover's form. Leaning in, she brushed her lips against Cat's ear, relishing in the shiver it elicited. Huskily, she whispered, "You… are wearing too much clothing," and pulled off the tee.

By the soft light of the vanity, Sarah drank in the sight of Cat's exposed body. With her flushed skin and heaving chest, she was painfully beautiful. The dragon tattoos that had peeked out at her before, now lay bare. They sat crouched protectively on her shoulders, mirror images of each other. Sarah brushed her lips against the tattoo of the black dragon, delicately kissing its folded wings. Cat sighed appreciatively. A knowing smirk caressed Sarah's lips. Cat's dragons were far more than simple tattoos. They had a life of their own, and a deep connection with their mistress that Sarah couldn't even begin to fathom.

Sarah lightly pushed Cat, maneuvering her so that she laid spread out on the bed beneath her. Leaning down, she lavished one pert nipple, making Cat moan. Cruel teeth worried the tender flesh and she bucked beneath her, Sarah's name on her lips. Sarah repositioned herself and began to torment the other nipple. She wouldn't want it to feel left out.

The maddening sensations became too much for Cat. She fitfully grabbed at Sarah who looked up to see eyes full of desire staring back at her. The ache that had been building slowly within Sarah suddenly burst into a raging wild fire. She had been teasing Cat, playfully avoiding her lips, but now there was nothing else she wanted more. With searing passion, she slanted her lips over her lover's. Cat's lips were achingly soft, yielding to Sarah's invasion. A fierce need wracked her body as the kiss deepened and Cat's intoxicating essence filled her.

Clinging to her body, Sarah impatiently tugged at Cat's draw string PJs. Careful not to break the kiss; Cat rolled her hips, allowing for her pants and panties to slip to the floor, giving Sarah full access to her damp curls. She moaned when she felt how wet she was.

Cat whimpered and rolled her hips up, imploring Sarah to ease the terrible ache. Skillful fingers began explore her folds. Each tantalizing movement elicited deep moans from Cat that Sarah silenced with her punishing kiss. When Sarah found her core, Cat screamed.

The sounds of Cat being undone by her actions were exhilarating. She broke the kiss, leaving a fiery trail of open mouthed kissed down her jaw and to her neck.

Her mouth now freed, Cat began to plead with Sarah, "Oh gods! Sarah… ahhh… please, I… ahhhhhh!" She cried something in a strange language as Sarah slipped two fingers deep within her, thumb still stimulating her core.

Sarah set a maddening pace, driving Cat to her peak and then easing off before she could climax. She did this several times, until Cat was writhing uncontrollably beneath her.

"Please!" Cat begged desperately.

Accenting, Sarah quickened the pace of her cruel fingers. She could feel Cat's body arc with tension and her walls tighten around her. As Sarah drove her over the edge, she bit her neck, leaving a mark that would blossom into a lovely bruise in the morning. Cat screamed, wave after wave of searing bliss crashing against her body.

Falling back into the bed, completely spent, Cat curled up against Sarah.

"I love you, Sarah," she whispered, snuggling up against her body.

Sarah's heart sang. Brushing back a stray strand of glossy black hair from her eyes, she stared loving at the beautiful woman lying in her arms.

"And I love you, Katrina," Sarah purred into her ear. She felt Cat's body shiver with pleasure at her use of her _name_. Yes, Cat was definitely not completely human.

Suddenly, Cat's eyes narrowed. Getting up on one elbow she stared Sarah down, mock displeasure written across her face.

"Now who is wearing too much clothing?" she asked chidingly.

Sarah laughed playfully and began to pull off her ugly baggy tee when Cat caught her, head and arms trapped in her shirt. Cat's fingers danced up and down her sides, making Sarah squeal and squirm.

"Gah!" Sarah shrieked, muffled by the shirt, "That's not fair!"

"Life is so unfair to the Little Mouse," Cat teased as she continued to tickle her.

She tortured her sides until Sarah could barely breathe. At last, Cat removed her shirt, but in one quick movement she had tied Sarah's hands with it to the head board. Sarah squirmed in protest, but the bonds were drawn tight. She was stuck.

"Now, now, Little Mouse," Cat purred, kissing the bound girl. "You know as well as I do that you would have sought retribution for that little stunt. And I have much better ideas to occupy our time with."

Slowly, she made her way down Sarah's body; kissing, teasing and biting. Sarah tried to ignore her, wanting to hold onto her indignation with childish pride, but each blissfully agonizing touch stoked the fire building deep within her till she could barely stand it.

At last, Cat settled herself over the juncture where her thighs met. The only barrier keeping Cat from her intended goal were a pair ruffled light blue panties, which was easily remedied.

"Now, what was I going to do?" Cat sat back, a finger lightly taping against her flushed lips in mock contemplation. Sarah squirmed in anticipation. "Oh yes, I believe its tea time."

She began to rise from the bed, leaving Sarah bound and aching.

"Cat!" she cried in annoyance. Sarah kicked a leg at Cat, causing her cruel tormentor to lose her balance.

Cat laughed and returned to her position above Sarah's core, causing Sarah to blush. The bound woman huffed irritably. Sometimes she wondered why she loved this infuriating woman. Sarah was quickly reminded why when she felt Cat's deft tongue delve into her.

Sarah bucked as a wave of pleasure lanced through her body. How did the woman do that? Each careful flick of her tongue brought Sarah closer to her peak. Straining against her bindings, she rolled her hips up, closer to Cat's lovely mouth.

"Katrina!" she cried as a particularly deft lick almost drove her over the edge. Cat growled with pleasure at the use of her _name_, redoubling her efforts.

Waves of ecstasy wracked her body as she climaxed, Cat's clever tongue drawing it out until Sarah's muscles began to tremble with exhaustion. Slowly, she melted back into the bed. Cat slid up her now sensitive body, leaving a trail of soft kisses, and rescued her hands from the bonds that were biting cruelly into her wrists.

Relaxing back into their bed, Sarah nestled against Cat, feeling blissfully exhausted. Cat's mischievous eyes danced as her fingers drew lazy circles across her back.

Sarah could feel sleep begin to encroach upon her thoughts and she stiffened. She didn't want to sleep. She didn't want find herself back in the Labyrinth or that strange other place again. True, she didn't dream about the Labyrinth and its King every night. There were whole months in which her dreams were blissfully normal and forgettable, but she never knew when that would happen.

Cat felt Sarah tense and held her closer. As if reading her thoughts, she whispered, "Shhh, lovely. It will be all right."

"But…" Sarah half-heartedly protested, sleep winning over her trepidation.

"Sleep, Little Mouse," her voice soothing Sarah's fears, "we have a big day tomorrow and you will need your rest. I will be right here too keep you safe."

With Cat's comforting words enfolding her mind like a blanket, Sarah fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

* * *

Cat gazed loving down at the woman sleeping in her arms. She knew something terrible was brewing on the horizon. If the woman in Sarah's dream was who she thought it was, then things were going to get very bad. Instinctively, she held Sarah closer, as if she could protect her from what was to come.

Yes, she thought, something has been set in motion and I don't know if we will be able to survive it.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** So here is the little blurb I promised. Essentially, all you need to know is Sarah has a beautiful girlfriend named Cat and Cat has many secrets.


	4. Chapter 4: The Inertia of Darkness

**Author's Notes: **Hey everyone, thank you all for sticking with me and my story. I love hearing what you think, so please keep up your great reviews.

As usual, I own nothing from the Labyrinth. Anything new is my own.

* * *

Chapter 4: The Inertia of Darkness

The Goblin King was restless. His mind stormed as he soared above the lands of the Underground. There were so many questions and Queen Lilith had not been forth coming. She had grown silent after he had seen Sarah's shade. It appeared that she had said her piece; a cryptic warning and no explanation of what needed to be done. Maybe she was a bit more fae then he thought.

However, her words would not let him be. They had cut him deeply, stripping away years of denial and doubt. He had been neglecting his duties, blind to what was happening within his own kingdom.

He and the Labyrinth held a special bond. Like other monarchs in the realms Beyond the Veil, the Labyrinth was an extension of himself; as connected to him as his own hand. Anything that happened to him was reflected back upon the lands he ruled. When he was happy, the sun shined and flowers bloomed. The more nightmarish creatures of the Labyrinth would suddenly decide to remain in their layers. And when he raged, the Labyrinth would twist further in on itself, creating hellish obstacles and bringing forth beings that would rip the sanity from one's very being. Conversely, should _anything_ terrible befall the Labyrinth, it would destroy him.

So why had he not addressed the sudden flow of magic into his realm? As its monarch, it was his duty to guide or guard against such changes. Sadly, he knew the reason. Nothing had been the same since _Sarah_ entered his world.

It had been the last ditch effort of desperation, going to the Queen of the Razor's Edge. The Labyrinth had become a husk of its former self. All belief and magic bleeding away as the human world forgot it. It had caused Jareth insufferable pain, killing him as it did his land. But even then, that was not what had spurred him to Lilith's bed. His duty and the ritual had to be maintained.

The great barn owl's form trembled as he remembered the night he spent with the Queen. He was no stranger to women's beds, but being with the Queen of the Razor's Edge had been different. To sleep with her was like lying with a raging hurricane. The enormity of it had both exhilarated and disturbed him. In that single act, she had stripped his soul bare and remade it into a form that he still could not fully grasp.

Then the Queen told him what he had to do to complete the change he needed. He had to observe a single human girl and when the girl got a little brother, he must trick her into wishing him away. Thus, the Great King of the Goblins was reduced to stalking a spoiled human child.

She was maybe only eight when he first set eyes on Sarah Williams. And she was indeed spoiled. Her mother and father, Linda and Robert Williams, had made her the center of their little world, treating her like a princess. But something about this brat did intrigue the Goblin King; her imagination was a grand, wild thing and was only matched by her fierce belief in what she dreamed. There were so few mortals left with that kind of passion. This little girl stirred some indefinable feeling within him. It made its way past all the defenses that the King had built around himself and struck him deeply.

It may have been for that reason that it had actually been painful for him to watch her world fall apart when Linda Williams left her father for another man. The look of sheer agony on her sweet face had wrenched his heart in peculiar ways. The feeling greatly disquieted him. So that was why, by the time Sarah was ten years old, Jareth left her the book that would eventually lead her into his trap and then let the girl be.

For nearly five years he did not look in on his human; no, not _his_ human. Why would he say "his human?" And yet, the girl was never far from his thoughts. It was strange how a mere human girl had unsettled him. He was the Great and Terrible Goblin King, the stealer of children, the wielder of the Wild Magics, and he had been reduced to wondering if a human girl was "feeling better."

Not being able to stand it any longer, he looked in on her again. She had changed a great deal since he had last seen her and, yet, had somehow remained the same. She was still the fierce believer that she once was, running around slaying dragons and rescuing princes and princesses from evil sorcerers, but she was no longer a child. In the blink of an eye she had transformed into a lovely young woman. The power of that thought nearly drove him back to the Underground, never to return. That was when he noticed something new had entered the girl's world. Sarah Williams had a little brother.

At last, he would have what he needed. All other thoughts were driven from his mind, and a terrible steely resolve had hardened his heart. He began to observe the human girl and her new family, trying to discern what he could use against her. The relationship with her new step-mother, Karen Williams, held promise. Instead of rejoicing in the fact that her father had found someone who could make him happy again after her mother had so soundly broken his heart, Sarah had rebelled. She cast herself in the role of Cinderella making Karen into her evil step-mother. No matter what the woman did, Sarah would reject her wholly and completely. He was amused that Sarah was still the selfish, spoiled brat she had always been. Some things never changed and some weaknesses were easily exploited.

However, what truly surprised him were Sarah's feelings towards her new little brother, Toby. She seemed to care for the toddler. True, she would sometimes rail against him and the attention he received, but she was mostly a loving big sister. Jareth knew this would never due. He was going to have to goad her.

Carefully, the Goblin King surrounded her with precious and unique things from the Underground; stuffed animals that looked like the denizens of his realm, a little wooden maze that accurately mimicked areas of the Labyrinth, bookends that held an uncanny resemblance to his disgruntled gardener, and even a figurine of himself (he was nothing if not vain).

That did the trick. Sarah became obsessed with the book he had given her so long ago; acting out parts of the book in the park, becoming more and more engrossed with the tale she read. Then, one night, the trap sealed shut around her. In a fit of dramatic ire, she wished her little brother away.

Jareth had been absolutely triumphant when he appeared before her for the first time. He had been certain he had won. His realm was saved and all would be well, for how could such a spoiled girl resist the offer of her dreams? That would be the first time he underestimated Sarah. She rejected the crystal containing all she ever dreamed; gallant knights, farie queens, fierce dragons and thrilling adventures. She wanted her little brother back.

It must have been the book's fault. He never should have written it with the gallant rescue of the stolen child, but it had been necessary to ensnare her imagination. He knew he should have been angry with her, at least angrier than he was. She had been standing between him and the salvation of all reality, and yet, he couldn't refuse her the chance to experience a real adventure. Perhaps he had done it as a reward for giving him the greatest gift any being could ever bestow, the restoration of his Labyrinth. Besides, he had thought that this little spoiled girl was no real threat. She was only slightly prolonging his plans, not foiling them. He never truly understood his reasons why, but he presented her with the ritual: Thirteen hours to run the Labyrinth and reach the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. Little did he know that he would soon come to regret those thirteen hours.

No being, mortal or immortal, had ever done what the young Sarah Williams did. She ran the Labyrinth, _his_ Labyrinth, with an ease that disconcerted him. She resisted him every step of the way, thwarting his pain staking efforts. He had had so little magic left and he used it all to match wills with her. Most galling of all, she managed to turn even his subjects against him. Very few of the denizens of the Labyrinth knew its true purpose. It was an ancient secret, kept and guarded by few. But even the cowardly dwarf, who had an inkling of what was at stake, had helped her. That was when he realized it was time to switch tactics. He had remembered a line from the leather bound book he had given her, "But what nobody knew was that the King of the Goblins had fallen in love with the girl." It was perfect. If she would not cower before the Goblin King, then she would swoon before Jareth.

The peach had been a lovely piece of work, a beautifully woven spell of seduction and forgetting. It had irked him when Hogswatch…Higswart… whatever; it had irked him when that little dwarfish whelp had tried to refuse to give the peach to Sarah. Jareth was his sovereign, trying to keep all of reality from unraveling at the seams, and he dared question his judgment! Then, to add insult to injury, the girl had kissed that wart faced traitor. No, things were definitely not going as easily as he had expected.

When Sarah had bitten the peach, Jareth had been excited. It must have been because he was so close to winning. The dream had been perfect, almost. Since it was a shared dream, his darker nature influenced the dream, making it slightly more sinister. However, it had been a manageable annoyance. What he had not counted on was how beautiful Sarah would be. Her lovely dress hugged her young curves like a dream. In that moment, when they swirled across the ballroom floor, arm in arm, something new took root within his heart. He had realized he wanted to keep her.

As Sarah broke free from the dream, Jareth had been filled with a sudden ache. He hadn't wanted the dream to end. For once in his long life, he had felt his loneliness ebb. This human girl was turning out to be an equal match for him.

When he found the girl within his city's walls, a fear so complete lanced through him that he thought his heart would stop. She was supposed to have forgotten everything, becoming one of the poor sods that dwelled in the trash heaps outside the city walls, and definitely not at his door step.

Sarah had traversed the Labyrinth like it was some child's play thing and now she had the gall to storm _his_ castle! He sent his goblin army to stop her, but the lack of magic made them into bumbling fools. Goblins were always foolish and mischievous creatures, but they were also extremely dangerous magical beings. But the army he had sent forth to meet his foe was half starved for magic, and Sarah had easily defeated them.

Needing more time, he had devised a plan to stall her. He had slipped himself and the boy away to the Escher room to wait out the last remaining minutes.

It had surprised him how hopeless he felt when he saw Sarah enter the room. She wouldn't reach the babe in time. He would win and Sarah would return to the Aboveground, childless. He should have been elated, not wallowing in self pity.

The child was well out of her reach, she was simply wasting the last precious seconds she would ever have with her little brother, the last precious seconds in which the King would ever be able to see her. Then she surprised him once again, she jumped.

It had been foolish on his part. He should have let her fall to her death and then she would have been no threat at all. But for some reason, he reached out for his last reserves of magic and slowed time, easing her gently to the floor. The act itself tore the room apart and sent deep reverberations throughout his kingdom. He had doomed them all with that one pitiful act.

He had been exhausted, barely holding back the pain that was wracking his body. Still, he had begged her. He begged her to turn from the child and accept her dreams. Then he did something that his pride still ached from, he begged for her to love him. At that moment, he would have done anything for her, if only she would fear and love him.

With a cruelty that awed him, she refused him. HIM! Everything he had done was for her! His Labyrinth lay in ruin because of her. She had exhausted all the magic that he had had left. He had risked everything to please her, and yet he got nothing in return.

With a heavy heart, the Goblin King had returned Sarah and Toby to the Aboveground; the last dredges of his power consumed by that single act of obligation. He had watched over her through the windows of her home as she safely tucked her brother in his crib. When he had turned to leave, to face the terrible things that would soon be bleeding out from beneath the Labyrinth, he was startled to hear the whoops and hollers of a party in her room. Turning his owlish head back to the window, his great eyes widened at the sight before him. Sarah's room had been filled with creatures from his Labyrinth, celebrating her victory.

They should not have been there. Traversing between the human realm and the lands Beyond the Veil took a great deal of power, let alone creating ribbons, streamers and confetti out of thin air. There was simply not enough magic left to provide for such a grand display, and yet there they were. After that, Jareth had quickly returned to the Labyrinth and discovered it spread out before him, beautiful and whole; well, mostly whole. The Escher Room was never the same again and it took years to rebuild the Goblin City, but those were all petty concerns. He had reached out tentatively and felt the faintest trickle of magic. That was the first time he felt it, the strange magic leaking back into his realm. It was small, but steady; and it only increased with time.

It all lead back to one important question: Why did the magic come back when he failed to keep the child?

Lilith's words rose unbidden from his mind, "_It was never about the babe._"

A great gale nearly knocked Jareth out of the sky, bringing him back to his senses. When he looked bellow, he was horrified by what he saw. The Labyrinth was darkening.

Dotted throughout the landscape were dark blossoming tendrils creeping out from the foundations, staining its surroundings. The darkness pulled at his eyes and mind, as if trying to swallow him whole. He could hear horrible cries rising up from within the Labyrinth. His people were in danger!

The Goblin King swooped down, launching himself at the darkness bellow. Slipping out of his owl from and using all the power he held within him, Jareth hurled large crystals at the invading things. They shattered against the darkness with eye searing light. It did not banish the tendrils seeping into his realm, but it stemmed the tide.

His head swam with sudden pain and his vision began to narrow, but he still could not let up. He needed to get his people behind the safety of the Goblin City's walls. Launching himself back into the sky, he let out a keening wail. It was a warning, a guiding sound laced with magic, leading all who heard it towards the heart of the Labyrinth.

Circling his realm, the Goblin King tirelessly attacked the darkness and guided creatures to safety. For those that could not move, such as the door knockers and the false alarms, he used his fraying magic to whisk them away to the City. Each expenditure of magic sliced through him like a cruel dagger, but he was the Goblin King. He would not allow anyone to be left behind.

Finally, when he was certain that every last creature was within the Goblin City, from the largest rock-caller to the smallest worm, he flew to the castle. His flight was erratic, his whole being suffused with mind numbing pain.

He crashed through the window of his throne room, unable to hold on to his owl form any longer. His mind was a jumble of disorder as panicked squeals surrounded him and rough arms pulled at his body. Slowly, a single question simmered to the surface of his mind: Why was It here? He has enough power to keep It at bay indefinitely. It shouldn't be _here_.

"Kingy!?" someone screeched at him, trying to tug him into a sitting position.

The world swam as he tried to focus on the speaker. He was vaguely aware of being surrounded by short ugly forms. His head throbbed as he felt It redouble Its efforts.

"What's wrong with Kingy?!"

"He looks sick. Somebody do somethin!"

"Why is it so dark?"

"What's so dark?"

"The Labyrinth, stupid!"

"HEY! I'm not…"

"SHUT UP!" yelled a chorus of gobliny voices.

Jareth couldn't help it. He laughed. Even when the world was ending, goblins would still be goblins.

Suddenly, Jareth saw the floor rush up to meet him and another cry of voices filled the throne room. He tried to fight the void that was threatening to overrun his mind. He needed to warn his people about what was happening. They needed him. His realm needed him, but he couldn't fight it any longer.

Lying in a disheveled heap on the throne room floor, surrounded by concerned goblins, the Goblin King fell into an icy oblivion.

* * *

**Author's notes:** Bum bum bum! What will happen to Jareth? Will Sarah be able to find out what is happening? Who exactly is Cat and what is her connection to all of this? So many questions, so little time. Stay tuned for next week's installment of _Strange Changes_.


	5. Chapter 5: Ill Portents

**Author's Notes:** Hello everyone. Sorry I took so long to get this chapter up. Its partially due to a bad reason and a good reason. The bad reason is that I got hooked on Mass Effect and had trouble hauling myself away from the xbox. The good reason... which is bad for me but a much better excuse then my video games got in the way... is that I just got laid off from my job and have been dealing with the fall out. But do not worry for chapters 6 and 7 are already written and all I am waiting for is my betas to get to them.

This chapter has a few references but are not true cross overs. Can you catch them?

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Chapter 5: Ill Portents

A gentle light streaming in from the train's window woke Sarah from her blissful sleep. All the fears and concerns she felt the previous night seemed to melt away with the rising of the sun. Stretching languidly, she eased herself up from her bed and took stock of her surroundings.

Cat was gone, but that was no real surprise. She had always been an early riser. Over on the vanity, Sarah noticed a steaming mug wafting the tantalizing aroma of earl grey. Underneath the cup was a note written in elegant cursive.

Sarah took a delicate sip of her tea and began to read:

"Dearest Sleepy Mouse,

I have adjourned to the dining car to break my fast and to call upon some contacts that might know the meaning of your dream. It would be beneficial for you to check on your associates in the Underground. It might all be nothing but a dream; nevertheless, I would be more at ease if we could lay all doubts to rest. Please join me when you are ready.

All My Love,

Cat"

A smirk caressed Sarah's face. For as long as she knew, Cat always wrote like that; as if even a grocery list was a sonnet. Still, the woman was right. Sarah needed to deal with what she had seen in her dream. Her eyes fell to her laptop, half covered by an old grungy tee shirt. It had been days since she had last checked in with her publisher and the woman was probably frantic. Sarah made up her mind; work first, ill portents of doom later.

Many things had changed for Sarah since she first visited the Underground, such as being able to see magical creatures and her ability to cross the Veil. However, the most recognizable was her transformation into a writer.

After her trip through the Labyrinth, Sarah had closed a chapter in her life. She no longer wanted to emulate the mother who had abandoned her and her father for fame and fortune. No, there were things far more important than living a life full of glam and glitz. So she fell back on her second love, stories.

By the time she graduated from college, Sarah was writing for small publishing houses, filling the world with stories of her true life adventures guised as fiction. Her work transcended the generation gap, appealing to both the young and the old. People loved her unique take on fantasy, weaving tales of the Labyrinth and other realms in the Beyond the Veil. She was heralded as a modern folk teller and a young genius. Now, at twenty-nine, she was getting ready to publish her first novel, which her publicist was hounding her to make the final approvals on before it was published worldwide.

Turning on her laptop and opening her inbox, Sarah sighed. She was right; her publisher had been frantically e-mailing her. At least ten of her e-mails pertained to her novel, _The Labyrinth_. It wasn't that she didn't want to get her novel published. To her, it was the most important piece of work she had ever written. It was the complete story of her very first trip to the Underground. The young writer endeavored to be as truthful as possible about the events that transpired there, even including her less then noble attitudes at the time. Unfortunately, she never realized how frustrating it would be to get her vision published properly. Editors kept trying to change key plot points and character; apparently it was more appealing to the preteens to have Hoggle be a girl elf named Evelyn. Finally, everything had been settled and compromises made; Sarah got to keep the ballroom scene and Hoggle, but Toby was now Tabatha. Her novel was finally ready to be published; except for one small problem, the book's cover.

For the past three months, she and her publicist had been arguing over the cover's design. Sarah insisted that it needed to be plain red leather with embossed gold lettering, just like the book she had as a child. Her publicist, on the other hand, insisted that it needed to be flashier to catch peoples' attentions. Based on the last e-mail, the woman had found a middle ground. The red leather bound book would be the hardback version for the avid collector, while a more eye popping cover would be used for the paperback. Sarah couldn't help but ruefully smirk; it seemed that her publicist thought the Goblin King's image would be a major seller. The woman was probably right. He was definitely _flashy_ and had the look of someone from a particularly cheesy romance novel with a title like _The Fae King's Temptation_ or some such nonsense.

With a few strokes of the keyboard, she sent her final approval on the covers to her poor publicist and then sat staring blankly at the computer. Dark thoughts that had plagued her the night before began to surface. Sarah shivered. She needed to contact her friends.

With a sigh, she drew her attention to the vanity's small mirror. As her gaze grew steady, the mirror clouded.

At last, she called out to the mirror, "Hoggle, Sir Didymus, Ludo, I need you," her voice calm and firm.

The mirror visibly lurched. That was new. Sarah didn't have time to wonder about the mirror's queer reaction, when it suddenly showed her something that chilled her to the marrow. The Labyrinth spread out before her, but it was being consumed by darkness. For the first time in her life, Sarah was at a loss for words. Before she could truly see what was happening to her Labyrinth (why did she say that, it wasn't _her_ Labyrinth), the mirror lurched again. This time she was rewarded with the worn and haggard faces of her friends; a curmudgeonly old dwarf, a gallant fox knight and a gentle shaggy haired beast.

"Sarah?!" Hoggle gave a startled cry. His great blue eyes stared back at her with astonishment, as if she had swallowed a mouth full of bog water and her breath was miraculously minty fresh.

"My Lady," Sir Didymus spoke as he removed his hat with a flourish, "it is quite fortuitous that you have called upon us at this dire hour of… uff!" Hoggle elbowed the little fox right in the stomach.

"I say! That was quite uncalled for… uff!"

"Will yah shut it?!" Hoggle grouched at the knight. "There aint nothen to worry your pretty head over. Now what were yah needen?"

Sarah stared gravely at her old dwarfish friend. She knew he was trying to protect her from whatever was happening to the Labyrinth, but she also knew that they did not have time for misguided gestures, no matter how well intentioned they may be.

"Hoggle, what has happened to the Labyrinth? Why is it being swallowed up by darkness?"

Hoggle winced. He began to shuffle his feet and twiddle his fingers. The ground seemed very interesting to him. Finally he spoke; it was low and barely above a whisper, "I don't know what yer talk'in about."

"Dark bad!" Ludo bellowed, startling his friends. At least _he_ wouldn't lie to her.

"Hoggle, I have seen it. There are strange patches of darkness all over the Labyrinth. There is no use in lying to me. You know that."

Hoggle began to sputter, "But… but… how did you kn…?"

Sarah cut him off. She was becoming exasperated. "I don't know how Hoggle, the mirror just showed it to me. Now are you going to tell me what's going on, or am I going have to get angry?"

"We don't know what is happening, My Lady" Sir Didymus said, looking utterly miserable. Hoggle fidgeted at the knight's words.

"It all started last night," Sir Didymus continued. "First there was one patch, than they swiftly multiplied. The darkness burns, My Lady. It eats away and unravels anyone or anything that gets in its way. I think… I think its unmaking things." The brave knight's whisker's twitched nervously.

Sarah's heart clenched. She didn't know what _unmaking_ was, but it definitely didn't sound good.

Sir Didymus heaved a great sigh, "If only His Majesty had returned sooner, it might not have spread so thoroughly."

The Goblin King wasn't in the Labyrinth last night? If time was flowing at the same rate between the worlds, then Jareth's absence lined up with her dream.

"Where," Sarah stopped. Suddenly, her throat was unbearably dry. She tried again, "Where… where was he?"

Sir Didymus looked crestfallen, "That's just the thing, My Lady. No one knows. He left abruptly in the middle of the night, speaking to no one. And when he returned…" The brave knight stopped, some deep sorrow silencing him.

"And… what? What happened?!" Sarah couldn't hide the anxiety in her voice.

Her friends looked at each other, trying to figure out who would tell her. Finally, Hoggle slowly stepped forward, head bent.

"The damn rotten rat went and saved everyone in the Labyrinth, guid'en or magic'en us to the Goblin City." Hoggle tried to look indignant, but only looked ashamed. "It was too much for him, Sarah. He collapsed and he… he aint woken up yet."

Sir Didymus nodded gravely at Hoggle and said, "The King is connected to the land, My Lady. The invading darkness is most likely taking a terrible toll on his mind and body."

Sarah sat there, stunned. It was as if someone had suddenly yanked the world out from beneath her. A cold chill crept down her spine.

"But what is this darkness? What could be causing it?" She whispered, barely able to get the words out.

Hoggle, Sir Didymus and Ludo bent their heads, dejected. For the first time, Sarah noticed the state her friends were in. Their clothes and fur were caked with mud. Sir Didymus's waist coat, once lavishly embroidered, was in rags. One of Ludo's great horns had been broken off and Hoggle had a white linen bandage wrapped firmly around his torso. They looked exhausted. They looked awful. And they looked defeated.

Fear gripped Sarah's heart. The very world she loved so much was in danger. Even the Goblin King…

Suddenly, Sarah felt herself straighten as if someone rammed a steel rode down her back. She was not about to let the Labyrinth fall, even if that violet eyed woman hadn't warned her. She was the Labyrinth's Champion and no invading darkness was about to take her realm from her!

"Hoggle!" Sarah spoke, her voice as hard as iron.

The poor dwarf jumped. Her friends stared at her, dumbfounded.

"You know what is going on, I can tell. Spill!"

Hoggle began to stammer some pathetic excuse when Sarah cut him off, "HOGGLE!"

The little dwarf turned from Sarah, arms folded. "The King made me swear to never tell nobody. I may be a coward, but it was a blood oath!"

"Hoggle, please," Sarah pleaded, her voice softening. "What you tell me may mean the difference between life and death."

He peered up at Sarah from the corner of his eye and seeing the steely look in her eye, he relented.

"I aint say'en I know much." He finally admitted. "I will tell yah what I know, but yah aint gonna like it."

* * *

The dining car was bustling with happy passengers on holiday, filling up every available table. Cheery sunlight danced through the windows, creating a feeling of warmth and renewal. Occasionally, the train's whistle added its own bellowing notes to the pleasant chatter that droned amicably about the room. Delicious smells from the passengers' breakfasts unobtrusively tantalized the senses. It was a sweet and cheerful scene, the kind that's made for postcards, which made the strange shifting shadows at one of the tables all the more incongruous.

No one noticed the shadows. Nor did anyone notice that they were quite clearly talking to a young woman with shoulder length black hair, the only visible occupant at the table.

Cat glared at her tea while the three shadows shifted nervously around her. The surface of the tea trembled imperceptibly with subtle rumble of the train. The conversation was going nowhere. It was as if someone was deliberately trying to hide the big picture from her, and she knew just who that someone was.

"You're Highness?" A kind masculine voice tentatively asked from beside Cat.

"Don't call me that!" Cat snapped.

The shadow recoiled as if she had physically slapped him. Cat had always hated her titles. He knew that. Sure, they proved useful now and then, giving her admittance to places and contact with people that would have been otherwise inaccessible to her. Nevertheless, they clung to her like a scarlet letter.

Cat sighed, "I am sorry, old friend. It's just… there is so little that we actually know about what is happening."

The shadow simply shrugged and subtly bowed. He had known her for far too long to let a simple childish outburst offend him. Cat turned back to the shadow she had been talking to.

"Are you sure that is all you know?"

"In all honesty, Katrina, I am in the dark as much as you are," spoke the shadow across from her, his voice oddly accented. "All I can tell you is that he did visit her last night."

This really was going nowhere, Cat thought ruefully as she said, "So, all we know is that the Queen of the Between did actually contact Sarah and the Goblin King last night. We also know that the Labyrinth is in danger and that puts all of us in danger, but we don't know why."

"Wiseman, you said something has invaded the Labyrinth, a darkness that is consuming it?" Cat asked the squat shadow with what appeared to be a long tapered head.

The shadow leaned back, as if in deep contemplation. However, when it began to lightly snore, Cat couldn't help but roll her eyes. Perhaps it had been a mistake to call upon him for aide. When it seemed like the Wiseman was not going to wake anytime soon, she leaned over as if to rouse him.

Suddenly, the shadow snorted, shaking itself. In voice as old as time itself, he intoned:

"A horse and a man, above, below,

One has a plan but both must go,

Mile after mile, above, beneath,

One has a smile and one has teeth,

Though the man above might say hello,

Expect no love from the beast below."

The whole table was silent. Cat had a feeling that if she could have seen the other shadows' eyes, they would be staring just as blankly as she was. He was supposed to be one of the wisest creatures in the Labyrinth, there had to be some sort of meaning she was missing.

"Ahck!" A shrill voice issued from the tapered end of the shadow, "And what's that supposed to mean? It isn't even your own poem! You call that sagely advice? I need to find a better job, like being the hat of a real sage."

"Will you be quiet!" yelled the Wiseman to his hat.

"Hmph, at least he didn't tell you that the way forward is the way back. What rubbish," the hat continued, petulantly.

The shadow with the oddly accented voice shook its head and turned away from the odd Wiseman, "What I want to know is what is happening with these dreams. It is no coincidence that Sarah saw the Queen briefly, in the first part of her dream, addressing the Goblin King and then to be in the Between with him and the Queen later in her dream. You know what that sounds like."

Yes, Cat knew what it sounded like, but she did not want it to be true. It had been something that had been bothering her for a sometime now, though she would never admit it to Sarah. And now with the Queen of the Between addressing the Goblin King as if he were dreaming within Sarah's own dream, it seemed like a foregone conclusion.

"A King's imaginings and a Champion's dreams; how they torment each other," voiced the Wiseman, "They have been bound by ties that lash them tighter together the more they struggle. If circumstances don't change, they will strangle themselves."

The shadow of the Wiseman's hat peered down at the sage, as if shocked. "That was actually genuinely sagely. You know, you do have your moments."

A soft snore greeted the hat's praise as the Wiseman dozed off. "And now the moment is gone," it lamented.

The shadow of Cat's old friend shook its head at the Wiseman and said, "I guess that is all we will be getting out of him, My Lady. But what he speaks of, these shared dreams, it means that the Champion's bond with the Labyrinth runs deeper then we all suspected. It is such a rare occurrence. So little is truly known about shared dreams and why they form."

Her old friend paused, realizing that Cat was no longer paying attention. Again, she was glaring at her mug. The hands clutching it were trembling lightly and turning white from strain. A single, unguarded tear graced her pained face.

He quietly asked, reaching out a ghostly hand to her shoulder, "My Lady?"

With a speed that no human could posses, Cat deflected his hand; a hand that was far too solid to be a true shadow. She didn't want his comfort. She didn't want to feel comfort from anyone right now. There was no way for him to know why she was in pain. She had not retold the dream in full to them, a dream in which Sarah had fully intended to fuck the Goblin King. And then there were all those other dreams. There were so many. Cat felt sick.

"Tam," she begged her old friend, barely getting the words out of her throat, "please… just don't."

Tam pulled away, leaving her with her thoughts. The table was silent accept for the light snoring issuing from the shadow of the Wiseman. Cat took steadying breaths, each slowly easing the ache in her chest. Her stiff hands uncoiled themselves from their death grip on her mug.

"It seems to me," Cat began, her voice steadier then she felt, "that we have to make a slight change of plans." She tried to smile.

"What do you mean?" Tam asked.

"Are you at Wall?"

"I just arrived this morning."

Cat sighed and said, "Well, looks like our trip to the Market will be cut short. We have too many questions and not enough answers. We are going to have to pay a visit to the Between."

One sore hand rubbed at Cat's temples as she finalized plans with the shadows. Finally, when she felt they had settled what they could, she dismissed them with a wave her hand. The shadows instantly evaporated, like fog in the sun. If only her mind would clear of its dark thoughts with a flick of her wrist.

Cat found herself staring at her mug again, brooding. Her lover had betrayed her, knowingly or not, and now Cat was returning to the place she swore never to return to; home.

* * *

**Author's Notes continued**: So did you catch the references? The first one is a little obscure, but I am a Who-vian to the core. The poem was borrowed from the Doctor Who episode "The Beast Below". I felt it fit here. The other reference is to Wall and the Market, from _Stardust_. I am a huge Neil Gaimen fan and love the way he sees the world. It just fit to add this to the story. Again, not a true cross over, just a homage.

Please give me your critiques and comments. It really gets my creative juices flowing.


	6. Chapter 6: Broken Oaths and Betrayal

**Author's Notes: **Hey everyone, sorry for the long delay. I have been dealing with the unemployment thing and I kinda turned into a big pile of uselessness for a while. Anyway, I am back now and working on chapter's 8, 9 and 10. Unfortunately, my beta's have been too busy to edit my writing, so this chapter is not beta tested. I did my best to catch typos, but if there is anything wrong, please let me know.

As usual, I anything that is cannon I do not own.

* * *

Chapter 6: Broken Oaths and Betrayal

Bleak campfires within the confines of the Goblin City's walls lit up the unnaturally dark night sky. There were no celestial companions to light the world bellow. It was as if the invading darkness had swallowed them whole. Creatures of all walks of life crowded around these last bastions of light, staving off the horrors that had invaded their home. The jagged walls of the city blocked out most of the eerie cries of the thing outside. Only the occasional bone shattering screech cut its way through, causing the poor creatures within to huddle like cornered prey.

Hoggle and his little group sat quietly, each lost in his own thoughts. The dawrf's eyes took in the sad scene. The denizens of the Labyrinth, lost without their King to lead them, wandered aimlessly through the crowded city. The shambling form of a junkyard denizen drifted past them. Bereft of his shell of trash, he began to straighten. Deep, grimy wrinkles melted from his face and Hoggle could see a ghost of the man he once was. Four disembodied hands scuttled up to Hoggle's pathetic fire, roots dangling from where arms should have been. With clumsy movements, the four hands stood up on their root like appendages and twisted their fingers into the mimicry of face.

"Got any food to spare, govn'ah?" it asked, its voice resonating as if a group had spoken in unison.

Gruffly, Hoggle threw a shriveled potato at the hands. They caught it in their hand mimicked mouth and the potato disappeared, most likely consumed.

"Thank you kindly," said the quartet and scuttled off into the night.

The bandage at Hoggle's side itched. He knew he should be grateful that the slowly healing gash was the only injury he had suffered from the creature. He could hear the cries of those less fortunate then he that issued forth from alleyways and crooked houses. The horrors that thing inflicted was terrifying. The King may have saved them, but had it really been better then the mercy of a swift death?

Hoggle had to laugh, otherwise he would scream. The world was finally ending, just as the Goblin King had warned him. It was only fourteen years late.

"That was a difficult thing you did today, my brother; breaking a sacred oath," the little knight commented from across the fire, deftly tossing a shriveled potato into the embers.

"I would've told her back when she was first here, oath or no oath," Hoggle spat, anger filling his every word. "I aint got no pride and no scruples. And I certainly got no love for that rat of a king."

Sir Didymus looked sadly at his brother in-arms, compassion in his eyes. By the gods, Hoggle hated that about him. The old knight always assumed that the dwarf was as noble as himself and Hoggle knew he could never live up to Didymus's assumptions.

Avoiding the keen eye of his companion, Hoggle continued, "He threatened me, yah know. Not in his normal way. No Bogs of Eternal Stench or Caves of Lost Nightmares for me if'n I told his plan." Hoggle steadied himself, preparing to finally inspire distain in the little knight. "No. For the first time I's known him, he was blunt. If I betrayed him… I was dead. Simply that: Dead. Dead. Dead! I knows I'm a coward, but that was too much. Dead is dead and I didn't want no part of it." Hoggle shifted uncomfortably in front of the fire, refusing to meet the eyes of his friends. "And then when things worked out, when the world didn't end, I fig'red I never needed to worry about not telling her. What she didn't know wont hurt her and all that."

Sir Didymus did not respond at first, contemplating his words carefully. He poked at the fire, maneuvering their pitiful meal of desiccated potatoes through the hot ambers.

Out of nowhere, a giant furry arm captured the dwarf and pulled him into the hulking form of Ludo. Hoggle cried out, writhing and twisting his body, trying to free himself from the living cage. But Ludo held Hoggle firmly to his chest, refusing to let go.

"Get yer big ugly paws off me!"

"Hoggle good. Hoggle bwave. Hoggle _fwiend_," the great rock-caller stressed, holding the dwarf tightly. "Death bad. Death scawy!"

"You speak with wisdom beyond your years, brother Ludo," said Sir Didymus. "It is an honor to die heroically for what is right and just, but that does not mean it is an easy thing to do. You see, death is a sacrifice thou can make only once. And I am not certain if telling the Lady the truth back then would have been beneficial anyway."

Hoggle snorted. He should have known. Nothing could make the inanely noble knight view him as the rotten coward he was. However, a calming feeling filled his being, as if a great weight had been lifted from his heart. Maybe, just this once, Sir Didymus _was_ right.

"Do you think Sarah will ever forgive me?" Hoggle asked quietly, still cradled by Ludo's big arms.

"The Lady is hurt and confused, but she is still noble and strong. She knows there is nothing to forgive," the knight spoke sagely.

Hoggle could only hope that he was right.

* * *

"_When we first meet, Sarah, I knew who you was. Didn't you ever wonder why?"_

"_Well… I just assumed…"_

"_There you go! Take'n things for granted… again."_

Do not take things for granted; that was the very first thing Sarah had learned all those years ago when facing the Labyrinth. It was pathetic, really. For all the ways she had grown and changed, she was still so much like the spoiled fifteen-year-old who had wished her brother away.

"_He tricked you, Sarah. He did everything in his power to get yah to wish away yer brother. I was to help make sure yous wouldn't never get him back."_

Sarah slammed her fist into the wall outside of the dining car. Pain lanced up her arm, but it was a good pain. It almost cleared her mind; almost. She could feel a small bit of blood trickle down her knuckles where the skin broke from the impact. Several startled passengers stared at her like she was crazy, but she didn't care. Screw them! Their lives were blissfully normal. They would never be used the way she had been; a paltry little pawn in a powerful being's twisted chess game.

"_But… but why? Why Toby?"_

"_I don't rightly know. You see, the Labyrinth was die'n and that's no good for no body. Jareth told me that if the Labyrinth fell, it would end the world. Now don't go asking me what that means, because I don't know. I'm just a gardener. All I know is that somehow Jareth got it into his wicked head that your little brother was the key to bring'en back the magic and save'n the Labyrinth."_

Sarah slid open the door to the dining car and the cheery light within nearly blinded her. Why is it that the weather never appropriately fits the mood? It should be raining. Lightning should be rending the sky and booming thunder should be shaking the cars from their rails. And people should definitely not be laughing over bangers and toast.

"_If it was so important to keep Toby, then why did you help me? Help one little girl or avert the end of the world; doesn't seem like much of a choice to me."_

"_You was my first friend. I never had no friends before. I trusted nobody and nobody trusted me; it was how it was, but you didn't care about that. You called me friend, stood up for me against Jareth and even forgave me for tricks-en you. I just couldn't not help you. I just couldn't."_

When Hoggle had told her that, Sarah found that she couldn't hate him. True, he had kept a very important secret from her, but in all honesty it changed nothing between her and her dwarfish friend. He had ultimately helped her, despite all obstacles and she had won her brother back. However, it changed everything in regards to the Goblin King.

The fairy bastard had tricked her and used her and had planned to do God knows what to her little brother. For all she knew, he had planned to sacrifice the little toddler to gain power. She may be trying to save his kingdom, but next time she saw him, he was dead.

Something in the dining car tugged at the corner of Sarah's eye. It itched at her mind, begging for her to pay attention. Someone was using magic.

Sarah looked around. The dining car was as normal as could be and yet something was off. Finally, she spotted them: shadows. They twisted and writhed around a small table in the far corner of the car, completely ignored by the passengers. It wasn't until they evaporated away that Sarah noticed Cat sitting stiffly at the table.

"Cat," Sarah breathed a sigh of relief as she walked over to her table. The world was falling apart, but Cat was the eye at the center of the storm. Everything would be alright as long as she had Cat.

The woman looked up as she approached the table and Sarah froze. Cat was mad; not just mad, Cat was in pain. It was written all over her face. It was there in the way she held herself, like someone had stabbed her through the heart. In the simple white mug that Cat held, there were deep claw-like marks.

"Cat?" Sarah asked tentatively as she slowly lowered herself into the chair, "What's wrong? What happened?"

The raven-haired woman waved a hand, dismissing Sarah's concerns. She then took a steadying breath, composing herself. But when she spoke, her voice was tight and quiet, "It can wait, Sarah. Tell me what your friends had to say."

Was it just Sarah's imagination that the pain and anger in Cat's eyes were directed at her? Biting her lip, Sarah let the matter drop. There was no use trying to drag anything out of her when she didn't want you to. It was like she had built a wall around herself long ago. Sarah sometimes thought she was breaking through Cat's defenses. And sometimes all she seemed to do was bash her head against the wall.

It took Sarah a while to explain to Cat everything she had learned from her friends: the Labyrinth being invaded by some malevolent being, Jareth's coma, being tricked into wishing away her brother all those years ago and how that may be somehow connected to the darkness's appearance now. It was all intricately woven together like a spider's web. There was a pattern emerging from these events, but it wavered in out of Sarah's grasp.

After Sarah finished her tale Cat sat quietly, deep in thought. When she finally looked up at Sarah, there was a queer expression on her face. "Did Hoggle ever mention anything about a _Beast Below_?"

Sarah shook her head, "No. Why?"

"That's what I thought." Cat sighed, "It's just one of my sources mentioned it. It might be important, but I can't be sure. He is known for talking in half-truths."

"Was that all you learned?" Sarah asked softly, carefully breaching the subject. Whatever was bothering her must have been something her contacts had said. It certainly couldn't have been the sex last night… at least she was pretty sure it wasn't. She hadn't heard any complaints.

"No, that's not all" Cat said, settling back in her chair and gazing out at the English countryside as it raced by, avoiding her eyes. "I was also told about the darkness that is swallowing up the Labyrinth and, like you, I learned little else about it. But everything points back to you and the Goblin King."

"That's what I don't understand. I have had no dealings with that… that _fucking fae bastard_ in over fourteen years!" Sarah exclaimed. "I can understand why _he's_ involved. It's _his_ kingdom. All I did was win back my brother and foiled whatever terrible thing he was going to do him."

Sarah paled as a terrible thought entered her head, "Oh God! Toby! Do you think they need Toby? What if the choice I am supposed to make is between saving the Labyrinth and keeping Toby?!"

At that, Cat gave her a little half smile as if she wanted to reassure Sarah, but was holding herself back. Sarah couldn't guess what was making her so cold.

"No Sarah, I don't think this is about Toby. It's never that blatantly obvious when the Queen of the Between is involved. And even if Toby was in danger from this, the Goblin King can't touch him. You won him back by ancient right, he is protected."

Sarah sighed with relief and then paused, "Queen of the Between? Who is she?"

"She is a very ancient and powerful being, Sarah. She rules over all the between places and liminal spaces. And it was she who was in your dream last night."

Cat returned her gaze back to the window. Soft puffy clouds were gathering and slowly darkening. From one of the open windows, Sarah caught the delicate scent of petrichor. There was a storm brewing on the horizon.

"Do you know anything about shared dreams, Sarah?" Cat asked at length.

"Not much," she admitted. There were many strange things that magic could do, and when you thought you had seen it all, it would surprise you with raining toads. "I told you about the drugged peach dream I had back in the Labyrinth. I think that was one. Of course, I am not certain about that. It's not like I really ever got a chance to ask _him_, what with fighting off his army and running through a topsy-turvy room of stairs. And I guess I had one last night."

Cat bit her lip. When she spoke her voice was tight, strained, "No, Sarah. You have had shared dreams for fourteen years. Every single time you dreamt of the Goblin King, it was real. That was really _him_. It was no phantasm. Do you know how rare shared dreams are? Most can't do it. It takes a truly powerful being to construct the spell and even then the dream last little more than a few hours, and it certainly would not return night after night."

"The dreams were real!?" Sarah slammed her fists on the table. The whole dining car went deathly silent. A few of the passengers irritably coughed, irked by the yank disturbing a perfectly good and civilized meal. Of course, Sarah couldn't give two shits. This was the last straw. "So he hated me so much that he wanted to fuck with me personally! Using me as his little chess piece wasn't enough; he needed to humiliate me by making me into his little plaything."

"Sarah," Cat was looking at her, all the pain and anger returning to her eyes. And Sarah finally understood what she had done. It was as if someone had punched her in the gut.

"Oh. Oh Cat. I didn't know. I swear I didn't know," Sarah could feel hot tears begin to sting at her eyes. "Please, if I had known it was real, that it was really him, I would never have…"

Cat cut her off, her voice as harsh as steel wool, "I don't want to talk about it, Sarah. Not now."

"Cat, please." Sarah begged, reaching out for her. Sarah needed her. She needed her the way the tree needs water; the way the poet needs her muse; the way the selkie needs the sea. Everything was falling apart. Everything she knew to be real was wrong. If only Cat would smile at her and hold her, then Sarah could persevere.

She pulled away from Sarah's seeking hand and rose from the table. "Our plans have changed," she told Sarah with a cold, neutral tone. "We are still going to Wall and the Market, but we are going to the Between after. Be ready."

With that she left Sarah sitting in the dining car. She was surrounded by strangers and completely alone; isolated and falling.


	7. Chapter 7: Where Walls Meet

**Hey everyone, sorry for the long delay. My life went kinda crazy but I am back now. I am currently working on this piece but I also have another little side story I am working on called "The Tempest Calls". It is an Avengers story with an original character added, because the super hero quartet is a bit of a sausage fest.**

**Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this next installment. Disclaimer, I don't own the Labyrinth or its characters, but I do love them.**

* * *

Chapter 7: Where Walls Meet

The world is more complicated then you know; any scientist would tell you that. The world is more complicated than even they _could_ know, for they are limited by the very mechanics of their discipline. Science enables us to catalog and organize existence, but what of the things that will not fit neatly into our tiny boxes? There are more things then are dreamed of in our philosophies.

Yes, the world is beautifully complicated, deliciously complicated and Sarah was about to enter one of those complications, _again_.

The cords of the song fizzed and crackled from the old radio, a compliment to the drizzle outside:

"_Strange fascination, fascinating me_

_Changes are taking the pace_

_I'm going through,"_

A rut in the dirt road sent Sarah's head crashing against the window of the truck and she bit back a cry. It was an old grey truck, as old and grey as the man who drove it. From the truck's bed, Sarah heard several curses in strange lilting languages and one odd grunt: other travelers on their way to Wall and the Market.

"_Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes_

_(Turn and face the stranger)_

_Ch-ch-Changes_

_Oh, look out you rock 'n rollers,"_

The song was grating at Sarah's nerves. The man's sultry voice was like a pair of claws on the devil's chalk board. In truth, it wasn't the man's singing but the song that irritated her. The last things she wanted to hear about were _changes_. She was sick and tired of _changes_. In less than twenty-four hours, her whole world fell apart. Her friends were in danger (and possibly the world as well). What she had taken for granted about her life was now destroying it. And then there was Cat. She had barely spoken two words to Sarah since they had left the station and joined this rag-tag caravan on its way to Wall.

In the cramped cab, Cat sat impassively between the grey old man and Sarah, as still as a statue. Every mile that brought them closer to Wall seemed to wind Cat a little tighter, like a string being tightened on a fiddle, ready to snap.

"_Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes_

_(Turn and face the stranger)_

_Ch-ch-Changes_

_Pretty soon you're gonna get_

_A little older_

_Time may change me_

_But I can't trace time_

_I said that time may change me_

_But I can't trace time."_

With a sigh the older man turned down the radio. "They just don't make music like that now-a-days," he said. Mr. Foster, for that was his name, was a native of Wall and had been kind enough to offer the poor, hapless travelers a lift into town for a price.

"Queer folk have been arrive'n in town for over a week now, what with the Market and all," Mr. Foster glanced at Sarah and Cat, then back in the truck bed. The two were not normal by Wall's standards, what with one having the unfortunate luck of being a yank and the other displaying skin and tattoos that were most unseemly for a proper young lady. However, they were practically normal in comparison to the three coco skinned, turban wearing gentlemen and the funny little hairy man with a black silk bowler that were jostling about in the back of his truck. "Not saying that you two young ladies are queer," he amended, patting Cat's leg amicably.

There was a slight twitch in the lower corner of Cat's mouth, suppressing a laugh. Sarah never had Cat's self control. She tried to stare stoically out the truck's window, but Sarah found a snicker escaping from her. _Queer,_ the man said? The irony was obviously lost on the old shepherd. Cat looked over at Sarah, and for the first time since that morning, smiled. It was a beautiful smile. And if the smile was a little sad, she didn't care. It was as if she was being thrown a lifeline while drowning at sea. Strong nimble fingers sought out Sarah's hand and squeezed. Sarah new this didn't mean everything between them was fixed, that they would eventually have to talk, but it was a start.

Mr. Foster, who was often accused of having his head in the clouds, did not notice the women's mirth. His mind was occupied with pleasant thoughts of the Market to come.

"Hard to believe nine years have already passed since the last Market," Mr. Foster said wistfully. "I remember my first Market. Oh the things I saw."

Mr. Foster looked over at the two women, girls really. Mr. Foster was truly a man of his era. His upbringing had taught him that young unescorted ladies needed protection, no matter how the times have changed. Thus, he suddenly found himself advising the ladies, "But you young ladies best watch yourselves. Fairies can be up to all kinds of mischief."

"Mischief? What do you mean? I thought that sort of thing wasn't allowed at the Market," said Sarah. She had heard of the market through her travels. Established long before the Angles came to the Isle of Man, the market was a well-known neutral ground upon which anyone, be they human or from Beyond the Veil, could freely and safely barter their wares.

"I don't know nothing about that, miss. All I know is what me ma warned me about; something about me missing uncle being spirited away or some such. She was never clear on that point. Grandpa Thorn never would talk about the lad." Mr. Foster shrugged, as if to say that there was no use pondering over things with no answers.

Suddenly, Mr. Foster's face grew dark as something that had been bothering him made its way to the fore front of his thoughts, "Things have been rather different this time around, the Market that is. It's the mood, I think. Of course, foreigners are odd folk by their nature." To anyone in Wall a foreigner meant simply this: not from Wall. "I have been hearing things, you see. Now, I'm no eaves dropper, but you can't help hearing things at the pub. You two wouldn't happen to know what's got people so on edge, would you?" asked Mr. Foster.

Before Sarah could reply, Cat laid a steady hand on her shoulder and subtlety motioned behind her. Besides the sounds of the truck's wheels on the dirt road, the bed was eerily silent.

"I am afraid we don't know anything, Mr. Foster. You know how rumors can be," Cat replied, not completely lying.

Mr. Foster shrugged, accepting the woman's answer. There was something that distinctly unsettled him about this tattooed woman. And where was that accent from? Both she and her companion were more then what they were letting on, but then that was not unusual for these foreigners and was certainly none of his business. As long as the two behaved and did not cross the wall till nightfall, they were right by him.

The rest of the rough drive was spent in silence. The people of Wall did not have paved roads. In fact, the gravel road quickly transitioned to rough dirt just outside the train station. It wasn't that Wall was a particular isolated or poor town. Most houses and farms had television, and even a few of the younger residents owned computers. Wall wasn't a backward, techno-phobic, xenophobic town. The people of Wall simply had their priorities straight. The less the world at large knew about Wall and its wall, the better.

The wall that Wall was named for ran along the east side of the village. It was a thick, old wall, about a meter wide. It appeared out of dense woods and returned to dense woods, cutting through a beautiful meadow. No one knows how long the wall is or where it begins and absolutely no one ever crosses through its one break.

For longer than any in Wall can remember, the villagers had posted guards at the break in the wall. Sarah knew why no one was allowed to enter that break and walk through the pleasant meadow beyond. The wall was a line, a boundary between the mortal realm and Fairy.

Sarah had learned early on that there was a difference between Fairy, the Underground, and the many other realms Beyond the Veil. Initially, she had simply assumed that the Underground and its Labyrinth where Fairy and that was that. It soon became clear that it was far more complicated. The realms Beyond the Veil are all connected like an intricate cat's cradle, but are as separate and unique as snowflakes.

The veil itself is a thin line separating mankind from all the lands and peoples they have told of in stories. In few specific places, the veil can always be crossed, letting people venture into strange worlds both beautiful and dangerous. Wall is one such place. There are a few who can create their own gates through the veil, but they are rare and powerful. Then there are those like Sarah. Ever sense her visit to the Labyrinth she could find transient gateways, the ones that pop in and out of existence due to the time of day, the season, or, in rare cases, completely at random.

Sarah knew she was not special, per se. There were others that could find the fleeting, ephemeral weaknesses in the veil, but they certainly weren't common. It was her gift, like seeing through glamour, or maybe it was simply luck. She never really knew.

"_The Goblin King had fallen in love with the girl and gave her certain powers."_

A chill crept down Sarah's spine. Why did she suddenly think of that line? The book had all just been a story, hadn't it? Not just a story, she reminded herself, the book had been a trap laid out for her by the Goblin King and now it was messing with her head _again_. Dark thoughts returned to her as she remembered what Hoggle and Cat had told her.

It wasn't long before they arrived at Wall. The little town clung to a granite out-crop of gray stone that protruded from the surrounding meadows. The houses and storefronts within the town proper were made from the same gray granite they rested upon and were crammed together so tightly that it looked like the whole town had grown out of the hill. The town itself was positively packed with people. Tents, RVs and even the odd wagon filled every nook and cranny. Sarah thanked her lucky stars that Cat managed to reserve a room at the only inn in town, the Seventh Magpie.

Sarah sighed regretfully as they unloaded their things from Mr. Foster's truck and entered the little inn. She had always wanted to visit the market. This trip was supposed to be special. It was her and Cat's second anniversary. How quickly plans change.

"What do you mean our room has been taken!?" Cat practically screamed at the woman behind a large oak desk. The woman, Miss. Bromios (the third generation of Bromioses to own the Seventh Magpie), was different from the tall and gray nature of the usual native of Wall. Miss. Bromios was olive skinned, dark eyed, absolutely stunning, and did not take kindly to being yelled at.

With hands on her hips Miss. Bromios stared Cat down. "Well, as you can see, Miss. Fyrdraca, we are rather booked up at the moment and one of our guests was willing to pay triple the price for your room. Now I am sorry for the inconvenience, but…"

A tall swarthy gentleman from within the pub (for the only pub in town was also connected to the only inn) nearly choked on his beer. "Did you just say Fyrdraca?!" he boomed. The man's voice seemed to emanate from deep within a hollow cave.

Cat looked very smug as the great, bearded man lumbered over to them. He was so large that he had to hunch his shoulders to fit in the room.

"You didn't say it was Lady Fyrdraca's room," the man said, indicating Cat. He bowed and respectfully clasped Cat's hand, his dwarfing her own. "I am terribly sorry for this, my Lady. I had no idea the room was yours. Please, take it. I can find other accommodations. And don't worry Miss. Bromios, you can keep the money… for the inconvenience."

Sarah stared dumbstruck as the man lumbered away to join his rather bewildered companion. Apparently she was not the only one. Miss. Bromios gazed blankly at the retreating giant's form as she battled between arguing, apologizing, or just giving the two women their rooms and moving on. Based on the look that Cat was giving her, she went with the latter.

Cat grabbed the keys Miss. Bromios offered and pulled Sarah and their luggage up the stairs to right of the desk. She was obviously in a rush to get away from the little lobby and pub as fast as possible. Not so discreet stares from the packed pub followed their retreat.

"Now what was that about?" Sarah asked as they reached the third floor, out of breath. She hadn't even noticed that they had been running.

"One of the perks," Cat replied, an ironic smile on her face.

Sarah rolled her eyes; always with the secrets. "You know, I am getting really tired of this cryptic bullshit."

"Well," Cat said as she turned the knob and entered their room, "I am really tired of many things. That name, _Fyrdraca,_ just happens to be one of them." She practically spat the word as she unceremoniously threw their few bags to the ground.

"Fine," Sarah huffed as she picked up one of the parcels and placed it on the vanity table. The room really was beautiful. Along the walls and across the beams, there were intricate carvings of flowers, trees and mythical creatures. When she looked closely at the vanity mirror, she saw seven little dwarves with pick axes peeking out from behind the trees. These weren't your Disney dwarves with cherub faces; they looked more like they could be Hoggle's kin.

"So your real name is Katrina Fyrdraca and not Katrina Havoc. Oh, and apparently you are royalty or something." She threw her hands up in the air, "What the hell, Cat! Secrets are one thing, but lying? I never lied to you, not once."

"No, you never lied, but you also have never been faithful!" Cat spat back. The words were like a knife to Sarah's gut.

"I… I didn't know. Does that count for nothing?" Sarah pleaded. Her heart felt like a lead weight in her chest. She was suddenly very tired.

Cat pinched at the bridge of her nose, "I know you didn't." She crossed the room and embraced Sarah, holding her close. "Dreams are complicated things. I am sorry. That wasn't fair of me."

"Cat, who are you?" Sarah asked. She needed to know. No more secrets, no more hiding.

"That is also complicated, Little Mouse." Cat began, stroking Sarah's silken ringlets. Through her thin purple tank top, Sarah could hear the steady rhythm of Cat's heart beat. "I am royalty, just as you surmised, but I have never liked it. My full name and title is Her Royal Highness, Princess Katrina Lilliana Andin Fyrdraca. In truth the titles don't mean much, I have no kingdom to rule or duties to uphold, and they come with a certain stigma. Even my own father barely recognizes me as his child."

Cat sighed, "I tried leaving it all behind a century ago, but I guess it hasn't worked. You can't escape who you are. No matter how far you run, it will always catch up to you." She held Sarah closer, "You know I only used that name in our reservations as a bit of leverage if someone tried to poach our room. I didn't want some ass ruining our anniversary."

Sarah laughed, snuggling further into Cat's warmth, "Well, I guess it worked. That big guy was falling all over himself because of you."

"_With great power comes great responsibility_." Cat solemnly intoned, for which she was rightly smacked.

They laughed together. It was nice. Things almost felt normal again; lying in bed, teasing. But things weren't quite right, not yet.

"I am sorry, Katrina. If I had known, I would never have…"

"It doesn't really work like that, Sarah. I am no expert but there is one thing I do know about dreams, we don't always have control over them. I…" Cat bit her lip, "I think... Have you ever thought about what the Goblin King is to you?"

Sarah's gut reaction was to scream her hatred for him; to denounce him as a villain. Jareth had tricked her, tried to keep her brother, and invaded her dreams. But if she was being entirely truthful, she felt more for him then just hatred. Fourteen years of those dreams had muddled her views of the Goblin King. She knew the dreams had been a lie, she was certain they had been a lie. She was almost certain they had been a lie. She didn't know anymore. What did the Jareth mean to her?

"Cat, I don't know. I just…" Sarah hated doing this to her. It just wasn't fair.

"I thought so," said Cat, as if resigned to something. There were things running through her head, plans, designs, something and Sarah could only guess what they were.

Cat lay back in their big comfy bed and brought Sarah with her. Folds of quilted down nestled her sweetly. The exhaustion she had felt hit her during their fight came at her in gentle waves and she yawned.

"We best get some sleep now, Little Mouse."

"But," Sarah yawned again, "It's only two in the afternoon."

"Sleepy Little Mouse, this may be our last chance to get to sleep in a real bed… unless you have changed your mind about this little adventure of ours."

Sarah yawned again. The bed felt wonderful and she knew Cat was right. There were times when Sarah had been traveling and she hadn't seen a descent bed for months. This maybe her only chance to rest for god knows for how long.

Something nagged at her though, "This is not your fight Cat. I have to do this. This is my past. These are my friends, but you…"

Cat smiled. The look that she gave Sarah told her no uncertain terms how determined she was. "You are a part of my life now, Sarah. This is my fight as much as it is yours. I am not leaving."

Tears stung at her eyes and Sarah ducked her head, trying to hide them. It meant so much to have Cat there, to know she wasn't alone.

"Thank you," Sarah whispered as she felt herself slowly drifting into sleep.

* * *

"Thank you," Sarah sighed. She didn't know why she felt so thankful or who she needed to thank, but it felt right to say.

Everything was muted and dark, as if she were swimming through a murky pond. And yet, the place she was in seemed very familiar. A pair of large wooden doors stood before her, a great beam the size of a red wood baring her way. She had been here before. It looked like…

Something behind her hissed, eerie and deeply wrong. The sounds clawed through her mind and body. _**What sweet little morsel is this?**_

* * *

**The song is David Bowie's "Changes", which is where I got the tittle for this story. **

**Wall and it's inhabitants are based on Neil Gaiman's novel "Stardust". **

** Katrina's last name, Fyrdraca, is from the middle English word for fire dragon. Could this be foreshadowing? Stay tuned for the next installment.  
**

**Fav and or Comment, please. Your support is what lights the fire under my ass :)**


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